


To Bear Rapture and Sorrow

by AsgardianSouffle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patch 2.0: A Realm Reborn Spoilers, Patch 3.0: Heavensward Spoilers, WoL isn't a silent protagonist, basically all the npcs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:58:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7706767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsgardianSouffle/pseuds/AsgardianSouffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Levantaux decides to head to Ul'Dah to study thaumaturgy and become an adventurer, he quickly finds himself in for more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fortuna Favet Fortibus

“Now, don't forget to write,” my mother told me, as I'd shouldered my knapsack. Inside were my few clothes, some bread for the journey, and a small scraping of gil in a coinpurse. My mother gave me a worn, tired smile, her graying yellow hair pulled into its usual loose bun. Her hair was the one thing she didn't pass on, with me getting my father's chestnut brown instead.

Our cottage in Hyrstmill was small – plenty of room for one, but more than a little cramped for a family of three – but cozy. Father had been a fisherman in our native Ishgard, a trade he continued after our move to Gridania. I had never been told much on the particulars of why we left and, to be honest, didn't feel it mattered much. The only memory I had of Coerthas was of a sea of green that seemed to stretch for malms.

Smiling at my mother, I reached out to pull her into a hug. “I won't forget,” I said, squeezing her a moment before letting go. She wiped at her eyes with a worn kerchief as she looked me over for the millionth time that day.

“Oh, if your father could see you now,” she said, sniffing gently as she pocketed the kerchief. “Rest his soul, he'd be so proud.”

I adjusted the strap on my pack slightly, giving my mother a nod. “I'm sure he would,” I said, my gaze wandering across the main room of the hut. Now that I was leaving, I didn't want to go. I was starting to miss home already, and I hadn't even made it out of Hyrstmill.

My mother smoothed down my tunic before giving my shoulders a pat. “Now I've lost both of the men in my life,” she said, chuckling as she looked up at me. I rolled my eyes, bending slightly to give her a kiss on the cheek. I'd never considered my mother a short woman, but I was still two heads taller than she was.

“I'm not lost, ma, I'll just be a few malms away.” Ul'Dah was more than a few, but it was enough to apparently reassure her. “I'll be alright, don't worry.”

“I'm your mother, it's my job,” she said, laughing as she let her hands fall away and let her fingers settle on the small golden chain around her neck. “One last thing before you go,” she added, lifting the necklace. The chain was a simple craft, the necklace's only charge being a ring. It had been my father's, the only reminder of Ishgard he'd kept. Mother had held onto it after his death, for good luck, she'd said.

As she raised her arms, she beckoned me lower with a finger. Struck dumb by the sight, I obeyed, bending my neck and releasing a noise of protest once I'd felt the metal settle against my skin. “No, ma, this is father's. This is yours, you can't just...I can't accept this.”

My mother's smile didn't falter as she reached up to cup my cheek with a hand. “Oh my little Levantaux,” she said, giving a chuckle. “Maybe not so little anymore, but still my baby boy.”

“Ma...” I began, a sharp breath from my mother halting me.

“Yes, this belonged to your father, and I've kept it,” my mother continued, her hazel eyes locked with mine. “It's brought me good luck these past years, and I want to pass that luck on to you. You're heading off to Ul'Dah to do Halone knows what, and Miounne told me the dangers adventuring can bring.”

She sighed, folding her arms across her chest, shaking her head. “I get why you want to go, but promise me you won't get killed?”

Solemnly, I nodded, straightening my posture slowly as I reached to grasp the ring, tucking both it and the chain under my tunic. I knew how much it meant to her, and silently I prayed to whoever was listening that I could keep that promise.

“Now, get going before you're late.”

***

'Carriage' had been a generous description for what I was riding to Thanalan in. As I approached, I was able to feast my eyes on Brendt's cart as the last of the cargo was secured. It was a little weatherworn, the harsher desert climate bleaching its color, with clear evidence of sandblasts on the sides. I hoped we wouldn't be hitting any sandstorms during the trip, the thought of getting so much grit in my clothes was not appealing in the slightest.

I didn't seem to be the only one grabbing a ride to Ul'Dah. A couple of other young Elezen stood nearby, conversing between themselves quietly. They were Sharlayan, from their look, and the spitting image of each other. As I walked past, climbing up onto the passenger seating of the cart, I gave the pair a small wave. “Good day to you,” I added, with a smile.

The boy paused, mouth open as though in the middle of a sentence as two pairs eyes glanced over towards me. “Good day,” came his reply, along with a curt nod. The girl remained silent, simply giving a nod as her brother did. Deciding to leave them be, since it was clear they wanted nothing of anyone else, I headed to the back of the small cabin, setting my pack beside me on the bench. The twins made themselves comfortable at the adjacent end, silence settling between the three of us as the usual noises of the city carried on.

It was a few more minutes before the trader whose cart it was joined us. A tanned Hyur dressed in gray and red, he paused at the mouth of the cabin, glancing around before giving a shout of “Any more for Ul'Dah?”

This was going to be it, it seemed – the Sharlayan twins and myself – so the tradesman joined the three of us in the back, flashing me a smile as he plopped down on the bench across from me. Rapping his knuckles on the wood divider between the cabin and the driver, the cart lurched forward, beginning its trek out of New Gridania. As we left the city behind, and passed into the Black Shroud, I looked back, watching as the gates got smaller and smaller until I couldn't see them anymore.

 ***

All around me was silence. I was floating in an inky void, the occasional stream of light flaring past my vision and something like stars twinkling in the distant reaches. I tried to move and felt as though I were underwater. A wave of panic washed over me as I turned to look for something resembling a surface direction, but before I could move far, everything was enveloped by a brilliant white light. It calmed my fear, and I realized I didn't need to breathe as I felt myself pulled down further. My feet came to rest on what felt like a platform and, as my vision cleared, I could see the starlit void once again.

_Hear..._

I blinked, looking around for the source of the voice, but there was no one else in the void.

_Hear, Feel..._

The brilliance surrounded me again, lasting but a fraction of before. There, what seemed to be yalms away, was a floating sphere, larger and more yellow than the distant dots that resembled stars. The voice, I realized, was coming from my own mind, as if whoever was speaking straight into my thoughts. As I stared at the yellow light, I felt drawn towards it, like a moth to a candleflame. Without thinking, I took a step forward, but the soothing voice helped quiet any hesitation or doubt as I continued on. Step after step, I came ever closer to the light. When I was but a few fulms away, as my foot settled and I primed my other for another step, waves of dark energy burst from the sphere, bringing me to a halt.

_Hear, Feel, Think...._

The shadows coalesced into a figure in a dark robe, a red mask hiding its face. The yellow sphere of light flew up from behind the entity in black and came to shine just above and in front of me. Staring into the light, I felt filled with a power I'd never felt before, the sphere dispersing over my body as light filled my vision briefly once again. My clothes, a simple tunic, pants, gloves, and boots, were transformed into the most splendid robes I had ever seen. It felt like silk, and was darker than a moonless night. Tied with a red sash, a matching hat completed the ensemble.

Feeling a weight in my hand, I raised it to see an equally fine staff had appeared along with the clothes. Turning my attention back to the figure in the mask, I saw purple energy gathering in the shape of a symbol over the mask. I wasn't sure what the symbol meant, but the aether my apparent foe was channeling did not feel good. Bringing the staff up, I began to channel power of my own, my mouth locking into a snarl as I aimed the staff.

“...Hey, hey you!”

Opening my eyes, I blinked as I was greeted not by aetheric light, but by proper sunlight. Glancing around, I could see I was still in Brendt's cart, with the man himself looking at me with worry in his gaze.

“Y'all alright, lad? You were moanin' somethin' fierce for a while, there.”

Offering the man a sheepish grin, I nodded. “I'm fine, yeah,” I said, nodding. That had been some dream, more vivid than I'd ever had in my life. I decided it must be due to the heat.

“Feelin' the effects of the aether, I reckon,” Brendt continued, chuckling half to himself. I shook my head.

“I'm used to dealing with aether, I studied conjury for a bit back home,” I said, Brendt giving a silent 'ah' of surprise.

“Thanalan's heat is rough on folks, too,” he replied, giving a shrug. “Either way, you'll get used to it eventually. Don't worry.”

I yawned, I must have still been a little groggy from my unplanned nap, and Brendt reached down to his feet to pull up a sealed canister. “Have some of this,” he said, unscrewing the cap and pouring some of the contents into a dented metal cup. “It's gotten a bit cold, I think, but should still do the trick.”

He extended his arm out towards me, nodding to the cup. Uncertain, I took it, looking down at a dark brown liquid that made me think of things a person really wouldn't want to drink unless they had a death wish.

“What is it?” I asked, after a moment, looking from the cup to Brendt, who grinned.

“That, lad, is a delicacy called coffee. Made from these special beans you roast and then grind up, it's good for an energy boost. Give it a try!”

Not assured one bit by Brendt's encouragement, I looked back down at the cup, giving a shrug as I raised it to my mouth and took a gulp. I realized my mistake the instant the cold, bitter liquid hit my tongue. Sputtering, I somehow managed to swallow my mouthful of coffee without dying and handed the half-full cup back to a laughing Brendt with a shake of my head.

“It is better when it's hot,” he said, polishing off what was in the cup with a slight grimace.

“I will take your word for it,” I replied, relaxing back in my seat and turning to look out at the slowly passing array of dirt, rocks, and shrubbery. I was so far from home, from my familiar woods and rivers. I wanted something more than a quiet life in Hyrstmill, and adventuring fit the bill. I had tried to find things closer to home, but Gridania had more help than it needed, Miounne had said. It was on her recommendation that I was going to Ul'Dah in the first place. Plus...even though I'd studied conjury, I was terrible at it. I figured something else, something fresh, would be good, and Ul'Dah was home to the Arzaneth Ossuary.

A nearby shout caught my attention, and I paused in my musings in time to notice the cart was stopping. Looking around, I could see the same rocks and shrubs we'd been passing for the last I didn't know how long before turning my eye towards Brendt.

“What's going...”

“Relax, lad,” he muttered, his gaze focused on the driver's seat. The lalafell that was leading the chocobos – I'd never caught his name the whole time we'd been traveling – growled roughly.

“What's all this about?” I heard him say, before the sound of a sword being drawn followed it. Remaining silent, I looked at Brendt, whose face was set in a deep scowl as he quietly drummed his fingers against his knee. Staring at him a moment, I looked down at the other end of the cabin, where the Sharlayan twins were presently dead to the world.

“Inspection! Men, search the carriage!”

Much as I wanted to laugh at the weathered thing I was riding in being called a carriage, fear kept my mouth shut as I looked down towards the cargo, Brendt giving a quiet sigh. A soldier in red walked up to the load of items, another soldier on a chocobo walking along behind him.

“I'm just an honest peddler, friend,” Brendt said, the man on foot beginning to rifle through various parcels and packages. “So, er...don't be too disappointed if you don't find nothin', eh?”

I glanced at Brendt as he gave a nervous laugh, the soldier doing the search pausing long enough to glare and spit back, “Mind your tongue, old man, lest I cut it out!”

This seemed to be enough to silence Brendt for a time, as the soldiers – the Brass Blades, Brendt told me quietly – finished their inspection. 

“Sir, look! Somnus!”

“Honest peddler, was it? Since when did honest peddlers deal in prohibited herbs?”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at Brendt. He didn't strike me as the type of man to deal in something like that, but then again you never knew. _Then again_...I thought, looking from the trader to the Brass Blades. Something in their tones seemed...off.

“You're in a lot of trouble old man. You'll rot in a dungeon till the end of your days...unless you can afford the fine.”

I frowned, saying nothing as I looked at the floor of the cabin. So, that's what this was, a shakedown. The somnus, if the Blades really did have somnus and not some mock-up, was planted on the cart and treated as if it had been found there, leaving the poor peddler at the mercy of these men. I wondered how many traders had met similar circumstances. I wondered how many of them were thrown in jail for trumped up fines they couldn't afford to pay.

Brendt simply chuckled quietly. “Business as usual,” he muttered, shaking his head as if he'd been expecting something like this to happen. As Brendt moved to stand, I caught a flash of...something, out of the corner of my eye. A glint in the sky, sailing towards us at lightning speed. Realizing what it was, I raised my arm, shaking my head at the old man.

“No, don't!” I managed, seconds before a steel-tipped arrow landed solidly on the floor of the cart. Its appearance set off the Blades, and shouts rang out around us.

“Amalj'aa! To arms, to arms!” the mounted Blade called to his men, the lot of whom began to run towards an approaching band of armed and lightly armored muscular creatures. The Amalj'aa, I guessed. Not anything I wanted to meet on a dark night. Or a sunlit day, for that matter.

With his soldiers heading off to engage the Amalj'aa, the Blade on the chocobo looked at us, gritting his teeth. “Consider this a warning,” he barked, kicking a foot at the back of the cart. “Now go, all of you.”

Brendt didn't need telling twice, it seemed, as the words were scarcely out of the Blade's mouth when the old tradsman rapped on the back of the driver's seat, the chocobos leading the cart as fast as they could away from the sounds of swords clashing. We continued at a fast pace for some minutes more, until the Brass Blades and Amalj'aa were far behind.

Once we'd slowed back to a regular pace, Brendt let out a cackling laugh. “Phew...that kind of excitement ain't good for the heart,” he said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat. He nodded at me. “You be careful of them Brass Blades, lad. Bastards'll have the shirt off your back if they fancy it. Like common bandits they are, only less honest.”

I blinked, taking a breath as I glanced back at the road stretching behind us. It was empty, save for one of the guards Brendt kept on as protection from thieves. Of course, 'thief' didn't extend to members of the law, especially when they were outnumbered. Nodding at Brendt, I replied, “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Consider it a free lesson for Adventuring 101,” Brendt said, pouring himself a cup of the cold coffee. Grinning, he offered me a sip, which I politely declined.

“How'd you know I was going to the Adventurer's Guild?” I asked, surprised.

“You wouldn't believe how many folks have hitched rides on my cart, going to Ul'Dah or Gridania or Limsa. I've learned how to tell the look of adventurin' types, and you fit the look.”

“Oh.”

Brendt took a sip of coffee, moving to relax back in his seat. “Goin' wherever the wind blows, seekin' fortune an' glory...that's what I'd call a livin',” he mused, glancing at me with a smile. “If I was a few years younger, I think I'd give adventurin' a swing.”

“You make it sound easy,” I said, rummaging through my pack for some cheese. I was glad I let my mother pack food, I'd been afraid it was going to make my pack too heavy.

Brendt shrugged. “Well, yeah, so long as you can avoid dyin', I mean. Ain't no secret that adventurin' is a risky business, these days especially.”

I paused, in the middle of tearing off a chunk of yellow cheese. Giving Brendt a nod, I tore it the rest of the way and popped the chunk into my mouth. “My ma said that, too,” I said, eating another piece.

“Your ma sounds like a smart woman, then,” Brendt replied, finishing his coffee and pouring out another measure. “If you don't mind me askin', what got you into adventurin'?”

What got me into adventuring?

I wasn't sure. I didn't know. Well, no, I _knew_ but not completely. I felt...drawn to it. I couldn't explain why, and even my excuse to my mother was slightly a lie.

“Money,” I said, Brendt chuckling. “The treasures you could find, one could only imagine.”

“Then you'll fit right in where we're going,” he said, giving me a toothy smile. His smile wavered as he continued. “Just remember, though, they're more important things than fortune an' glory. Such as breathing. Ain't no profit in being dead, that's a fact.”

_Promise me you won't get killed?_

The vow I'd made to my mother flowed through my head, and I placed a hand over my chest, where I knew my father's ring rested. Turning to look out across the passing landscape, I nodded in agreement.


	2. Welcome to Ul'Dah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levantaux meets Momodi, and learns of some longtime threats in Thanalan.

If I had ever thought the Carline Canopy a busy place, it paled in comparison to the Quicksand. As I walked through the gate, staring in awe at the expanse of buildings before me, I smiled. Brendt had called Ul'Dah the Jewel of the Desert, and I could already tell the description rang true. A river of people flowed around me as I stared up at the gray masonry, drinking in the sight.

“New to the city, eh?”

Startled, I jumped, looking around to find a sunglasses-wearing Hyur grinning at me. With his belted shirt and halfgloves, I wondered if he was another adventurer. Giving him a nod, I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly.

“Yeah...is it that obvious?”

“'Tis plain to anyone with eyes that you don't know your way around here,” he replied, chuckling lightly. “If you go wanderin' off down a dark alley, you're certain to get mugged or worse, an' I don't want that on my conscience.”

He patted me on the shoulder, nudging me lightly to get out of the way of the foot traffic. Following him along, we meandered over to a streetlamp, which he proceeded to lean against and fold his arms. “So, where you from?”

“Gridania.”

“Ooh, nice place. You don't see too many forest folks out this way.” He paused, giving a hum. “Think it's the heat that gets to them.”

I shrugged, mentally grimacing at the thought of the heat.. I was, truth be told, already feeling too warm in my sleeved tunic and cotton trousers. They were perfect for the Shroud's temperate weather, but murder standing there under a looming sun.

The man in blue smiled over the top of his glasses, his gaze wandering to my clothes. “You might want to get something better to wear before you melt,” he said, turning his eyes back up to me. “But, first I'd say head over to the Quicksand, get acquainted with Momodi.”

He jabbed a thumb in the direction of a pair of wide staircases just on the other side of the avenue, and the double doors they led to. “She runs the place, along with the Adventurer's Guild. She can set you right.”

“Momodi,” I said, giving a nod. “Thanks, uh...”

“You can call me Wymond.”

“Thanks, Wymond.”

Glancing at the sky, Wymond stretched as he pushed off the streetlamp. “Glad to be of service...but that's all I'm willin' to part with for free. If you need anything, you look like you can manage decently enough.”

I nodded, giving the Hyur a wave as he slipped into the crowd. He was gone within seconds, leaving me to digest his words alone.

“...For free?” I pondered quietly, giving my pack a quick shift to my other shoulder as I headed across to the tavern.

As I crested the stairs, the doors suddenly flew open, and a tan, dark-haired miqo'te went sailing out over the railing of the stairs. A splash followed shortly after, signaling that the cat had landed in the fountain nestled between the twin stairs. Blinking in surprise, I looked over at the door, where a sky-blue roegadyn was dusting off his hands.

“Maybe a bath'll shock some sense into that ruddy head'a yours,” the roegadyn called, laughing as he turned to head back inside. I could hear more laughter, along with loud chatter, filtering out through the open door. As it closed, I shook myself from my paralyzing surprise and followed the large man slowly.

The inside of the Quicksand seemed louder than I first thought, with all the conversation echoing off the stone walls. Lanterns hung from the walls and ceiling, the fire within them burning gently in the circular room. A wooden railing sectioned off some of the room, creating an inner ring and an outer ring. Within the inner ring were tables and chairs, half of which were occupied. Some sat alone, some sat in groups, chattering animatedly away with one another. The roegadyn I saw coming in moved to take a seat at a table with an older looking elezen and a lalafell with purple hair. There was a fourth seat with a quiver slung over the back that sat empty, and I ventured to guess it belonged to the miqo'te that had been given the impromptu bath. Leaning against the roe's chair was a large, nasty looking axe, and I made the mental note to never make him mad – if I ever had the opportunity to meet him properly.

Mingling with the talk were the aromas of ale, sweat, and the conflictingly delicious scent of roasting meat. My stomach grumbled, reminding me my snack of cheese was hours ago, and meat sounded like a fantastic idea. Making my way around the outer ring of the room, glancing at the occasional figure leaning against the wall, some of which were armed, I eventually found myself at the bar. A brown-haired lalafell with eyes to match smiled wide.

“Why, hello there! Who might you be?” she asked, looking me up and down.

“I...uh. Are you Momodi?” I asked, sliding onto the empty stool next to me. I was starting to sweat now, and wondered where a good place for shopping was. The sooner I got things at the guild settled, the sooner I could get some airier clothes. The woman nodded brightly.

“I am. Are you looking to join the Adventurer's Guild, stranger?” I nodded. Momodi clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Wonderful! Then, you've come to the right place!” she said, reaching for a large, leatherbound book. Opening it to roughly somewhere in the middle, she scanned the pages before flipping through the tome a moment. She looked up at me as the pages settled on a place where one side was about half filled. “There's been no end to contracts, recently, I'm glad Miounne and Barderon have been sending folks my way.”

“What's been keeping things so busy?” I wondered, Momodi pausing and tapping her chin as she looked at me.

“Not used to the heat yet, huh?” she asked, not waiting for me to reply before she hopped from the step-stool she had been standing on to see over the counter. Leaning over the bar, I watched as she toddled over to a cask mounted on its side, a metal mug in her hand. Holding the mug under the cask's tap a few moments, she was back soon after, sliding the now-full mug across the bar towards me.

“You look like you need something cool,” she said, waving her hands in an encouraging motion when she noticed I wasn't reaching for the mug quick enough for her apparent liking. “Drink up, it's on the house.”

“I...oh. Thank you,” I said, lifting the mug to my lips and taking a sip of the ale. To my surprise, it was quite cold, and had a sweetness to it that vaguely reminded me of the honeyed mead my mother would sometimes buy. Swallowing, I lowered the mug, licking my lips before taking another – slightly longer – sip.

“Good?” Momodi asked, as I set the mug down on the counter.

“Very,” I replied, looking over at the lalafell with a smile. She was leaning forward, her chin resting on one hand as she eyed me with a smile. “Reminds me of honeyed mead.”

Momodi gave a hum of delight, her smile widening. “That's some of the inspiration for it, very good! You're a Gridanian, aren't you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

She chuckled. “Generally, the only folks who can name the sweet taste are Gridanians. Must be something in the water.”

“It's in the ale, at any rate,” I quipped, taking another sip from my mug. Momodi laughed.

“Certainly is,” she said, rising from her watchful position to stand fully. “So, Mr. Gridanian, what's your name?”

“Levantaux.”

“You sure you want to stick with that?”

I raised an eyebrow, looking over at Momodi curiously. “What do you mean? What else would I say?”

Momodi shrugged, reaching for a quill and uncorking a vial of ink. “You'd be surprised. New city, new life, many folks take to reinventing themselves. Some of the names they think up, ha!”

I shook my head. “This is a new chapter in life, but I'm pretty happy with my name.”

“You're among the rare breed,” Momodi said, scribbling in her book. After a moment, she looked over at me, quill hovering over the page. “Got a last name, Levi?”

Levi? That was a new one. My father had called me Couerl, up until his death, but that was it. Levi. I kind of liked it.

“Muraudel.”

Momodi nodded, adding it on to my first name in her book. Setting the quill down, and closing up the inkwell, she smiled. “And, there you go! Congratulations, you're now an official adventurer. How do you feel?”

I blinked. Were all lalafell so excitable?

“That was...easier than I thought it would be.”

Momodi shrugged, smile still resting on her face. “The Brass Blades and Immortal Flames have been clamorin' for all the help they can get. The Amalj'aa have been gettin' increasingly active lately.”

I thought about the encounter on Brendt's cart earlier that morning. “You mentioned having a lot of work?”

“Oh, I can't even begin to tell you...” Momodi said, exasperation filtering into her tone. “The lizardmen have been plaguin' the sultanate for nigh on, oooh....” she paused, shrugging again. “Forever now.”

“Forever's a long time,” I replied, finishing off my ale. Momodi gestured towards the cask.

“Refill?”

“I would be eternally grateful.”

Once my mug had been filled back up, Momodi continued. “Then there's the Garlean empire. Nobody can be sure what they're up to these days, only that they're plottin' _something_.”

Shaking her head, she sighed, her smile fading as her eyes looked out across the tavern. “Aye, they all drink and make merry...but underneath it all, there's worry. Worry an' the feelin' of loss.”

I watched Momodi's sad gaze, biting at the inside of my lip as I lowered my head to stare down into my ale. A lamp's fire flickered in the mirror of liquid in my mug. The darkness surrounding its reflection made it look like a fire hanging in the night, just like that time five years ago.

“..turnin' the realm into an eighth hell...”

Shaking the memory of a burning moon from my head, I looked back at the lala with an understanding smile. “I understand, believe me,” I said, Momodi giving a sigh.

“Yes, well,” she began, pausing as she tapped at her chin. “Things are a bit foggy, though. No one really remembers everythin', which is just so strange. You'd think people would remember somethin' as important as what happened at Carteneau...”

Momodi trailed off, silence falling between the two of us for some moments before she jumped slightly. “Oh, look at me, gettin' all reminiscin' on you. And here you are fresh off the proverbial boat.”

I rubbed the back of my head, not quite sure what to say.

“Anyroad,” Momodi continued, before clearing her throat. “Mister Muraudel! On behalf of the Adventurer's Guild, I officially-”

“Please sir, be merciful! Twelve as my witness, I swear to you, I'll bring you your money!”

Momodi groaned at the interruption, sighing as her eyes turned off to my left. I shifted in my seat to follow her gaze, finding myself met with the sight of a man cowering on the floor. A lalafell in a monocle, flanked by two others, loomed over him.

“In the East, it is said that even a merciful god might be driven to vengeance if thrice blasphemed,” the lalafell said, glaring at the hyur on the ground. “Be grateful you were given a chance to offend. You two, attend to this scum.”

The two enforcers stared down at the man, who moved to grovel on the floor before the lalafell. Not sure what to make of it, I looked back at Momodi.

“Should we do something?” I asked, the woman shaking her head.

“It's a sorry sight, but not uncommon, to be honest.” I started in my seat, prompting a chuckle from Momodi. “Oh, don't worry, Levi. If you work hard, I doubt you'll end up like him.”

“That's...not entirely reassuring.”

Momodi grinned, raising a finger in a wait-a-moment gesture before hopping from her perch. I watched her make the rounds around the Quicksand, checking on customers and snapping her fingers at some pitcher-weilding serving girls every so often. While she was away, I finished up my ale, setting the emptied mug on the counter and getting to my feet. Momodi wandered over, barking an order at a nervous looking miqo'te as she did. Her smiled returned as she reached me, looking up with a laugh.

“Heading off already?”

“I need clothes I won't melt in, and then I need to pay a visit to the Arzaneth Ossuary.”

“Say hi to Cocobezi for me, and tell him he needs to come by more often,” Momodi said, patting my knee. “Oh, before I forget. If you're wanting clothes, you might want to check with the Gold Bazaar. Head out the main doors, hang a right, and keep going. You can't miss it. The Ossuary is left from here, all the way at the end of the street.”

“Thanks, really,” I said, returning Momodi's smile with one of my own. Turning to head back out into the blistering sun, I could hear Momodi's voice ringing out behind me.

“Come back soon, now!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh. I got a comment on the last chapter. Good beginning, they said. Hopefully I can keep things going well. I really like Momodi. I think she's my favorite of the Adventurer's Guild NPCs.


	3. When Something Strange Occured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is a bit late, as I'd intended once a week postings originally. Ah well, at least chapter three exists.

Rain did not apparently exist in Ul’Dah. A month into my stay in the city, it had rained a grand total of zero times, something unheard of in Gridania. I could swear I’d lost ten pounds from the heat, not to mention the almost constant running around I was doing. In between my thaumaturge training and the adventuring contracts here and there (which were mostly to do with population control of the local fauna, at present - Momodi didn’t want to give me too much too soon) were the odd jobs I picked up from the city’s various residents.

There was the lalafell with a ring he needed appraised, which turned out to be junk. Courier work between the various guilds of the city. Medicine to be delivered to the refugees living over in Pearl Lane. With the massive influx of adventures coming from malms around, it was a little alarming just how much there was to do around Thanalan. I spent a week down at the Silver Bazaar helping a lalafellian tradeswoman, three days in Black Brush dealing with quiqirn. And, still, it seemed there was no end to the troubles that called adventurers for aid.

One particular afternoon seemed hotter than the rest, and I was dashing through the Steps of Nald bearing a package from the goldsmiths to the miners. Cool as it was within the steps, without the sun beaming down on everything, I found myself unable to shake off the heat of the day.

Earlier, I’d been working on what the Ossuary called a ‘hunt log’, a list of beasts around Thanalan on which I could practice my burgeoning magic. So, until the noon bell, I’d been running around the desert throwing fireballs and ice shards at cactuar, ladybugs, and yarzon in the hopes it would improve my aether’s strength. Surprisingly, it helped immensely, and I even managed to get a hang of the thunder spell - which I had been having a frustrating time with up until that point.

Pausing by an aetheryte, I rested my hand on the stand, leaning against it as I tried to clear the sudden throbbing from my head. A headache had been coming off and on for most of the day, and it was making it increasingly difficult to focus. Lifting my free hand from the aetheryte, the package I was tasked with delivering in my left, I rubbed my forehead with a grimace. Blinking, I shook my head again, stumbling sideways against the crystal giving off a gentle blue light. Looking at it reminded me of that strange dream I’d had when I first arrived to the city. I had decided it must have been the beans Brendt cooked while we were on the road, as my dreams had been perfectly normal ever since.

My headache finally ebbing enough for me to keep going, I slowly pushed off the aetheryte, letting my arm fall back to my side as I continued on my mission. The Miner’s Guild was down a stretch of hallway off the back end of the Steps of Nald, with crates filled with various stones and mining equipment lining the passage. As I neared the doors to the guild, I could hear muted conversation, the occasional laugh sprinkled in. The guild had its own small bar, and I enjoyed how much smaller it was than the Quicksand. When I had a bit of spare time, I would sometimes stop by and have a drink. The bartender was a roegadyn named Berwyn, a burly sort who was always ready with a laugh and a story.

Poking my head through the door, I waved to Linette, who was at the guild reception desk bent over some rolls of parchment. Adjusting her reading glasses, she gave me a smile as I approached and set my package on the desktop by her papers.

“This must be…” the woman murmured, looking over a parchment as she unwrapped the brown paper from the delivery. Inside was a gold brooch, with a glittering red stone set inside. The woman nodded, smiling.

“Aditi’s order, that’s right. I’ll get this to her when she comes back from Copperbell,” she said, rewrapping the brooch and setting it aside. She turned her eye to me and added, “You look tired, Levi. You kids shouldn’t run yourselves around so much, the heat out here isn’t good for it.”

I nodded, my headache beginning its resurgence. “That sounds like a good idea, Linette. I think I’ll do that.”

Turning towards the bar, I lifted my foot to move. The floor came rushing to greet me before I could take a step, and I lost my grip on consciousness. When I came to, I was laying on a pallet of sorts and felt something cool and wet on my forehead. Opening my eyes, I looked up to find a motley of concerned faces staring down at me.

“Ye alrigh’, lad?” Berwyn said, from where he stood at the back edge of the circle of people. “Ye took quite a tumblin’.”

I gave Berwyn a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I mumbled, grimacing as my head moved. Whether it was still my headache causing trouble or just the aftereffects of falling onto a stone floor, I wasn’t sure. Bringing a hand up to my head, I felt a wet cloth folded across my temple. Linette was kneeling down next to me, gently patting my hand away from my head with a smile.

“Rest a bit, you did hit your head pretty hard. And, you need to keep out of the heat for a while, anyroad,” npc said, taking up the damp cloth and freshening it in a bucket of water beside her. Replacing it, she patted my shoulder. “Sun sickness is nothing to mess about with.”

I shook my head automatically, and instantly regretted it. “Sun sickness?” I asked, Linette giving a nod.

“Aye. It’s when you spend too long out in the sun, sweating and carrying on. You haven’t been keeping a waterskin on you, either, have you?”

“Course he ain’t, look at ‘im! I seen ‘im, spending all ‘is time wiv them mages. Most of it indoors, practicin’ them spells, more’n like,” one of the miners chimed in. I recognized him as Crooked Haft, one of the bar’s regulars. Most of the others began to disperse, seeing that I was being looked after and for the most part alright. Linettesighed lightly, eyeing me with the same look my mother gave me whenever she caught me in the mud when I was younger.

“Ye need t’keep a waterskin on ye, ye daft lad,” Berwyn said, a chuckle in his voice as he stuck a mug out towards me. “Keep out th’ heat an’ keep yerself watered. Important rules out here.”

Linette helped me sit up, my head still hurt too much, and I gratefully took the mug from Berwyn. I hadn’t realized I was so thirsty, and the water felt like heaven against my throat. I would have downed the whole thing in one gulp, but a sharp noise from npc stopped me.

“Better you sip it so you don’t make yourself even more sick,” she said.

Tough as it was, I sipped the water slowly. I remained at the guild for a while more, nursing through another couple of mugs of water, and the eventide bells were ringing before npc decided I was recovered enough to go anywhere. My afternoon had been completely sidelined, and I had missed my study session with Coco brother for first quest. But, before heading back to my room at Larasa Rasa’s, a surprisingly powerful axeweilder who owned a small flat and offered me his attic in exchange for enchantments on his weapons, I stopped by the market and bought myself a waterskin.

*

Distantly, the chiming of bells announcing the hour rang out. After yesterday’s tribulations, with getting sun sickness and knocking myself half silly, all I really wanted was to stay in bed. But, staying in bed wasn’t an option when there were contracts to be had at the Quicksand.

Generally, the earlier you arrived, the higher chance you had of getting something at least halfway decent. Considering the clocks were reading ten in the morning as I left Rasa’s, I didn’t have high hopes for anything particularly worth the while being left up for grabs. I was not surprised in the least.

“The Dispatch Yard,” I said, looking at the paper outlining the job. It was a standard sized piece of parchment, but was certainly lacking in the detail department. In a hastily jotted flow I couldn’t place if you paid me were the words:

 

NEEDED: ADVENTURER-FOR-HIRE

LOCATION: THE DISPATCH YARD, CENTRAL THANALAN

 

SEE PAPASHAN

 

At the very bottom were two signatures. The second was Momodi’s familiar cursive, with the first belonging presumably to Papashan. Whoever that was.

“And...why the Dispatch Yard?” I asked, looking from the paper to the lalafel behind the bar. Momodi just shrugged.

“Got me. The man himself came here a little while ago, submitted the thing in person before runnin’ off again. I mean, if you want somethin’ else, I’m sure there’s somethin’ I can find…”

“N-no,” I said, cutting her off. “No, this is fine, I’ll take it.”

With a nod, Momodi opened up her record book, jotting some notes before having me sign in one column. The job was now mine, I mused, as I rolled up the paper and deposited it into my pack. Ensuring my waterskin was full before venturing out into the desert - I vowed I wouldn’t leave home without it - I set off towards the Dispatch Yard to meet the client.

The Dispatch Yard was a railway station that stood in Central Thanalan. Mostly, it was used by the various mining companies to ship things in and out of the city, with the occasional passenger in in the mix. Since none of the other city-states had rail access, it was fairly limited in its use and scope. More often than not, the Dispatch Yard stood empty.

Papashan was, to no surprise, a lalafell. I could swear to the Twelve that lalafell were more numerous than anything else in Ul’Dah, one popped up every time you turned around. They seemed to pretty much run the city, between the wealthy Monetarists, who had their hands in just about everything, and the sultana. From what I heard, most of the people of Ul’Dah adored Nanamo Ul Namo and hated the Monetarists, who were the brains behind the rather notorious Syndicate. The Syndicate, it was said, would do anything if it meant they could line their pockets with gil. The idea of people stooping to such lengths over money gave me pause. Man’s ability to falter knew no bounds.

As I jogged around the Dispatch Yard, handing off baked pretzels to the guards milling around, I inquired on their watches as Papashan had asked when I arrived. Why he couldn’t have just said as much on the request he gave to Momodi, I didn’t know. When I got back to Papashan, I passed on my news: that none of the guards had anything interesting to tell from their recent watch duties. The aging lalafell gave a quiet hum of thought, and he reached up to stroke his mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

“I suppose the time for concealment has passed,” Papashan muttered, sighing quietly. Giving a nod, he looked up at me. “Whether or not you noticed, the guards stationed around the yard aren’t just regular guards.”

I hadn’t noticed, but I didn’t say anything.

“We are of the Sultansworn. That is, of the Sultana’s private guard.The reason why I was so abrupt is a matter of confidentiality.”

We? I thought, turning to look around the railyard. And, confidentiality? What was so secret about delivering people’s lunch, unless it was just a cover for whatever the actual trouble was. If Papashan was part of the Sultansworn, could the trouble involve the sultana? I kept my musings to myself as I listened to Papashan’s explanation.

“A girl from a rather prestigious family has gone missing,” he began. I raised an eyebrow at his words. I wouldn’t think the Sultansworn would help anyone except for the Sultana, but who was I to comment on the politics of Ul’Dah.

“I apologize for not being frank with you from the start, but should word of her disappearance spread, those with less honorable intentions might join our hunt.”

I folded my arms across my chest, giving Papashan a nod. “Makes sense. Where was she last seen?”

“Here in Central Thanalan. Just southeast of us a little ways is the Sultan Tree, a symbol of the house of Ul for many generations. My men and I will remain here, in case Lady Lilira makes her way to the Gate of Nald. It is more likely she will return through the Gate of Thal, however.”

“Sultan Tree, to the south,” I repeated, nodding at the white-haired lalafell. Turning, I hopped down from the platform standing next to the railway tracks. As I began to trudge through the sand, I heard Papashan call out from behind me.

“Good luck, Levantaux. And, remember this: should we allow her to come to harm, not even a hundred beheadings would be punishment enough.”

His words were chilling, and I paused for a brief moment to turn and glance at the man. Running my hand through my hair, I took a breath, shaking my head as I continued my walk. Glancing up at the sun, I could see it was near to noon, and the hottest part of the day would be starting up before too long. Placing a hand on my waterskin, I closed my eyes and channeled a spark of aether down to it, the leather chilling under my palm. Finding a shaded spot to rest for a bit, my head beginning to lightly throb, I opened the waterskin, taking a deep drink of the freshly iced water. Sighing, I resealed it and rubbed my forehead.

“Twelve, don’t let my headache get worse today,” I muttered, leaning back to rest against the tree a few more minutes. My head wasn’t improving, but I needed to keep moving to the Sultantree. The heat of the day wasn’t going to get any better sitting outside.

Another hour of walking brought me in sight of a large tree, enclosed by an array of boulders. Following the path around, my ears picked up the sound of crying. As I reached the trail leading into the small enclosure, I looked down the road to see a lalafell in pink bent in front of the tall roots of the tree.

“O, Sultantree,” I heard her murmur, the words punctuated by loud sniffles. “Hallowed savior of my line. Forgive my weakness, for it has cost us dear…”

I took a step forward, my boot dislodging a stone and sending it clattering across the trail. The lalafell in pink jumped up with a gasp, spinning around in surprise. She stared at me, wide-eyed, as I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Woah, I don’t mean you any harm,” I said, the woman still staring tensely.

“Who are you, why have you come here?” she demanded, pink eyes darting back and forth along the path that stretched out behind me.

“My name is Levantaux...Papashan sent me to find the Lady Lilira.” She began to relax, her fearful gaze morphing into a smile. “I guess that would make you Lady Lilira?”

“I am,” she said, giving a nod. Her smile did not last, as she turned to look back at the tree. “I fear that I…”

Lilira trailed off, her eyes darting to the mouth of the trail. I moved to speak, but she held her hand up in a wordless motion for silence. “Show yourself,” she called, lowering her arm to her side.

From behind a boulder stepped a slender hyur, dressed in the colors of a chess board. He flicked a hand through his moon-colored hair and flashed a smirking grin.

“As you command, O Lilira,” he said, a light chuckle following close behind. Reaching the noblewoman and I, he gave her a bow. “Forgive my selfish desire to assure your welfare.”

Lilira gave a ‘hmph’ in response, her hands balling into fists. Stomping her foot, she replied, “I don’t recall requesting an escort. Simply pretend you never saw me and continue on your way.”

She paused, looking over at you. Her expression softened, and she shook her head. “I’m afraid that would extend to you as well, Levantaux. I’m sorry, but I can’t return to Ul’Dah just yet.”

The white haired stranger sighed. “My lady, we both know I can do no such thing. It’s not safe for you here alone.” He trailed, glancing over at the tree. “It’s not safe for anyone, not with the recent aetheric disturbances…”

His voice dropped, until it seemed he was muttering completely to himself as he eyed the tree. Shaking his head, he returned his attention to Lilira. As the two of them slipped into bickering, I turned my own eye to the towering tree. The man’s words stirred a curiosity in me. Walking past Lilira, I placed a hand on a snaking root, seeking out its aetherflow. It wasn’t difficult to find, and I extended a tendril of my own aether to feel the tree’s. In an instant, I was doubled over, emptying my stomach over the tree’s roots.

“My lady, I must insist that...are you well, friend?” the stranger said, the sounds of my retching having apparently interrupted his conversation with Lilira. Rinsing my mouth with some of my water, I shook my head as I added the rinse to the roots.

“Something here feels...off. The tree can feel it,” I said, looking up and all around. Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, but I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. “It’s as though the dead are watching us.”

“Oh, dear…” Lilira began, raising a hand to her mouth. “Perhaps we should take our leave, then.”

The words were scarcely out of her mouth when a strange roar echoed out across the air. Looking for its source, our eyes turned east to be greeted by an alien beast. At the least, it wasn’t anything I had seen in either Thanalan or Gridania. At the worst, I remembered seeing a similar looking picture in one of the books at the Ossuary.

“What is that creature?” Lilira said, her voice trembling.

“I believe, my lady, that this is my cue to advise you to keep from harm’s way,” the stranger said, glancing at the woman. She did not wait to be told twice, as she scampered off to hide amid the tall roots of the Sultantree, carefully avoiding the spot I’d unintentionally watered.

Drawing my staff, I held it at the ready, eyeing the hellspawned monster as White Hair drew a shortsword and advanced forward. Grabbing its attention with a loud growl, he began to swing the sword in an effort to slice and dice the thing. As he kept it busy, I reached out to my aether, calling upon it to channel it through the staff. Striking with a thunderbolt, I followed it with a barrage of fireballs.

Aetheric energy was separated into two categories: astral aether and umbral aether. Umbral aether was mellow, and generally considered defensive. It was used to channel ice magic, and was useful for small-scale spells and aether conservation. Astral aether, conversely, was an offensive force, its strength rising the more you used it. Unfortunately, astral power drained your aether much more quickly. To ensure a thaumaturge did not exhaust their aetheric reserves, it was recommended that a thaumaturge learn to balance use of the two forces.

As ice shards shattered against the monster, my ears caught the sounds of animalistic shrieking drawing closer. From the east, presumably following in the wake of the larger creature, were two smaller versions of the giant imp. They shrieked again, a call returned in earnest the the bigger ugly.

“Lovely,” White Hair said, grunting as he jumped out of the way of a claw swipe. “It brought friends.”

He waved his arms at them, trying to draw their attention with taunts, but they ignored him, choosing to make a beeline for me. Though in the middle of calling up another spell, I let the aether fizzle into the air as I broke my concentration to swing at them with my staff.

“Twelve,” I swore under my breath, trying to push them closer to the man with the hopes they would decide to go after him instead. The ploy was successful, and he was soon pivoting in place from the effort of fighting three foes at once. I could see it was a struggle, however, and I adjusted the grip on my staff as I thought back to the rudimentary lessons in conjury I received while studying at the Stillglade Fane.

When I displayed magical talent as a kid, my mother sent me to the conjurers to learn to hone my abilities. I spent a frustrating few years there, never advancing far with any of the lessons. For a while, I thought I was just a terrible conjurer, until a visiting thaumaturge recognized my skill for what it was. C’ryl had been his name, and while I hadn’t seen him around the Ossuary, I was certain I would meet him again someday.

Now, staring as the man faced an onslaught of claws, I called upon the elements around me, silently asking the earth and air to lend their help. Green and white lights twinkled like fireflies around the man, and I heard him laugh.

“Don’t worry about keeping me standing, I have enough conjury to manage it myself,” he said, dodging another claw. “Just take out the little ones.”

“Fine,” I called back, reaching for the much more familiar aetheric flows of thaumaturgy. I began my pattern again, firing off shots of lightning before alternating between fire and ice. I could see the man mixing his swings and parrys with bursts of cure spells, and we went on in this way a few minutes before finally the small imps fell. They faded into dust, and the big one followed with an unholy cry shortly after.

“Whew,” the swordsman said, sheathing the blade and heading off to help Lady Lilira extract herself from the roots of the Sultantree. I turned to go help, but a strange aetheric force reached out to my own. Swiveling around, afraid there were more of those monsters, I scanned the horizon to make sure no more were coming. Relaxing after a few moments, I slid my wand into its holster at my side, gaze settling on a blue crystal on the ground where the creature fell.

Picking it up, turning it over in my hands, I could feel my headache coming back as the adrenaline from the battle faded. I wasn’t sure what crystals had to do with voidsent, but maybe one of the guildmasters knew. I thought I’d take them the crystal, see what they could make of it.

Something in the blue stone sparked to life, as it began to glow with a soft blue light. It was like an aetheryte...no, not an aetheryte. Like the light in my dream. The light grew in intensity, the crystal rising to float above my hands as I closed my eyes to try and shield them, to no avail. The world was engulfed in light, and melted away.


	4. A Moment's Glimpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levantaux has another vision...and unknowingly sets forth towards more danger.

The crystal still shone in my hands, illuminating the blank expanse around me as I came to. I was in the void again, but the feel of something solid under my feet made me look down to see a blue platform. It looked like some kind of aetheric construct, like the magic of the handful of arcanists I'd seen around the city. The platform spread out from beneath me in strange designs, like a tetragrammaton but...different. Its main element seemed to be the six circles that rested equally distant from each other and, as I looked, the circle to my right exploded with a ball of light.

Sending it flowing upwards, my eyes followed the light's trek to a second, greater amassing somewhere high above where I stood. As the two lights collided, I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the explosion, a small thought in the back of my mind noting the blue crystal I'd been holding was gone. As the light faded, and I lowered my arm, I heard the voice from my dream. It was a woman's voice, I realized, as the words flowed through my mind.

_Hear...Feel...Think..._

I couldn't ponder long on what the words meant or why, as something above me caught my attention. Great swirling gray clouds had gathered in the blackness, obscuring the light above, which had changed to an orange gleam. As I stared, fire rained from the clouds, falling all around me. Following their downward path, I could see a burning lake somewhere far beneath where I stood, screams echoing up from the blaze.

“Levantaux…”

I blinked. That was my mother’s voice. What was…how could…?

She was weeping. I could hear it so clearly out of the cacophony of anguish. My mother was weeping and I didn’t know why.

“Oh, my Levantaux…why…you promised me…you promised me…”

I shook my head. What was this? It was just a dream, right? Then why wasn’t I waking up? Why was I listening to this, seeing all of this? At some point amid it all, I had raised my hands to my ears, trying desperately to blot everything out.

“No more, please,” I begged to the void. I wanted to stop hearing the screams, hearing my mother in anguish. “It’s just a dream, just a dream, go away…go away…”

Sinking to my knees, still muttering quietly, something made me look up. The cloud of fire that bore the death rain had begun to fall. It came closer, ever closer. I could not will myself to move. I could only watch, as the searing heat embraced me, consuming me in its arms.

And then I was back in Thanalan, staring up at a twilit sky. Somewhere, a buzzard cawed, and I could hear an approach of footfalls. Sitting up, I wiped at my forehead, clearing off some of the sweat that had gathered during my…what even would one call that? More than a dream, certainly. A vision. But, of what? What terrors did the future hold, and why was I the lucky son of a bitch to get the warning?

“Ah, you’ve awoken, that’s good.”

The man from earlier had returned, and offered me a smile as I looked over. “Nice to see you’ve recovered. Gave her ladyship a fright, took us a bell of trying to rouse you before I managed to convince her to let me see her back to Papashan.”

“…Papa-who…oh, right,” I managed, shaking my head lightly. “The lalafell by the train yard.”

Still trying to clear the thoughts of screams and fire from my mind, I groped a bit of Sultantree root to try to stand. Rubbing at my head with my free hand, I patted my side to check if my scepter was alright, but nothing was there. Looking down at the belt holster I would keep the thing in, I could see plain as day it stood empty. Frantic, I cast an eye about for it. Maybe it had fallen out when I had collapsed and rolled away or, or… Wherever it was, I could only hope it hadn’t been damaged. I did not have the gil to spare for a new one. Or to even fix the current one, for that matter.

“Calm down a bit, hm?” the stranger said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I would assume you are looking for this?”  
Looking up at him, from where I stood half-hunched from exhaustion, he gave a soft smile. I followed the slight nudge of his chin down to his hand, where my scepter sat as pretty and perfect as the day I got it.

“I…thanks…” I replied, reaching for it. Whether it was the way he was holding the thing or the way I reached for it, I wasn’t entirely sure, but my fingers brushed his palm as they wrapped around the scepter, and it took every onze of willpower I had left to keep from blushing. His hands were surprisingly soft for someone as versed in daggers as he seemed.

The man chuckled softly, running a hand through his moon-toned hair. “Not a trouble at all. You helped protect Lady Lilira, and it’s pretty much common knowledge that Ossuary initiates are a bit…” he paused, thumbing his chin. “Shall we say, wanting when it comes to aether?”

I frowned, sighing. “Aye, sadly. I think conjurers and arcanists get the better end of things,” I said, rising to full height and taking a step from the root I’d been using as support. Mistake would be a mild term, as my knees buckled beneath me and the ground was well on its way to giving a very firm hello.

“Ah, careful there!” The man was at my side, arms wrapped around my waist and saving my head from a second thrashing. As he righted me carefully, I caught a flicker of what was like concern on his face, but the view didn’t last long enough to enough to say for sure.

With him ensuring my scepter was tucked tightly in its holster, and me double-checking for good measure, he leaned one of my arms across his shoulders, proceeding to walk me back to Ul’Dah.

“I should mention, since in all the commotion and all I’d forgotten,” he began, glancing over at me occasionally. “My name is Thancred. Pleasure to meet you…”

He trailed, obviously intending for me to give an introduction of my own. I had only been half paying attention, the other half of my brain too busy trying to ignore the fact that a handsome hyur I had never met before was being so helpful. Twelve preserve…

“Are you still so exhausted?” he asked, having come to a stop. “Should I give you a moment, is the aether drain that bad?”

I looked over at him, giving a shake of my head. “No, no. I’m mostly alright, it’s not the drain. I had a bit of dehydration yesterday,” I said, eyes darting away sheepishly.

They had lingered long enough to catch Thancred’s initial surprise, and the smile that began to split his face. “Ah, so that’s what it was. I heard tell of some elezen lad having a fainting spell over at the Miner’s Guild. So, that was you, then?”

“…Yes, that was me.”

“Must have been a lovely welcome to Ul’Dah, but it’s not an uncommon thing. With the Adventurer’s Guild swamped, and folks pouring in from all over, you start to see it more and more. Just, take care, eh?” He said, shifting weight around somewhat before resuming the walk.

“Ul’Dah may be a jewel, but the desert is always hungry.”

*

Thancred had deposited me at home. Well, less ‘home’ and more Zazana’s place. Thankfully, the guy was gone, leaving a note about gladiator training. I was dead certain he would have asked questions about Thancred if he was around, and that would have been…well. Anyroad, Thancred did not, to his credit, stay long. I managed to stumble up to my room after latching the door, popped an ether, and then fell into bed.

I spent a few days resting in my room. Between the dehydration and fighting a voidsent - which I still had every intention of telling the guildmasters about…when I found a good moment - the last few days had taken everything out of me. I was exhausted, in every sense of it, and just wanted to curl up in bed. Maybe with a good book. Currently, when I could manage to snatch a minute or two, I was working my way through the second book in the Mystery of Talara series. So far, it featured a Limsan-born courtesan who runs into the daughter of an Sil’dihn sultan during a festival in the ancient city. The courtesan, as it turned out, was secretly a princess…and that’s as far as I knew thus far.

I was just beginning the fourth day of rest and relaxation when Zazana came bursting through my door.

“Alright, kiddo, we’re not sticking with the turtle moves today!”

Zazana grinned at me, his purple hair tied back in its usual way. He wasn’t in armor for once, though, but his sword still hung at his side. Can never be too careful, I remember him saying once, when I was leaving out once. It was just meant to be a walk to the Ossuary, where I’d left a book I had intended to study that night, but Zazana insisted I take my scepter along. Just in case. Thankfully, nothing arose that required magic to solve.

“I’m resting,” I said, glancing at the lalafell from under my blanket. “Go away. The Twelve rested on the eighth day, didn’t they?”

Zazana chuckled, shrugging. “Even if they did, it’s only Lightningday, so up and at it, Van.”

“To go where? ‘S not like I have a job today…anyroad, don’t you have training right now?”

“Eh…swordmaster is out today. Ate some bad beef at this place over in Pearl Lane, has some wicked shits I hear.” Zazana laughed. “Remind me to ask him where he went, we should check it out sometime. Could be fun.”

_Mental note: Zazana is nuts._

“Right…” I trailed, sitting up with a quiet sigh. If he wouldn’t leave me alone, there wasn’t much else I could do but what he wanted. “So, what was in mind for today, then?”

“Drinking of course! You need a stiff drink or three in you, I feel. You’ve been up here for days.”

“Should’ve seen the day I had to warrant…what did you call it? Turtle moves?”

Zazana was busy bouncing around the room, picking out things that seemed reasonable as clothes and tossing them at me, not caring if I caught them or not.

“Tell me over drinks,” he said, lobbing a robe at me. Prying it from where it had wrapped around my head, I pulled on the dark fabric with resignation.

“Drinks where?” I asked, sliding my scepter onto my belt as I toed on some shoes. The leggings didn’t exactly match the robe and shoes, being some obscene shade of green I had never thought I’d see outside of Gridania, but Zazana seemed satisfied enough as he ushered me along to the Gate of Nald. Neither of us had the gil to rent a chocobo - not if we wanted to get drinks at wherever we were going - and I had never stopped there long enough to attune to the aetheryte at Black Brush, so we set off on foot.

“…You realize it’s like…another two hours to Black Brush, right?” I asked, once we were nearing Soot Creek.

“That’s assuming we’re going to Black Brush,” Zazana replied, a knowing smile on his face. “You cut that in half, maybe a little less, and you know where you get?”

I shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“Why, the Coffer and Coffin, of course! Only the best pub in Thanalan. And the best place for a little pick-me-up,” he said. One look at him told me he had a bit more than drinks in mind for his ‘pick-me-up’. Heaving another quiet sigh, and in the mood for some time away from worry myself, it was easy to convince myself that this was just what I needed. Some time away from books and work and thaumaturgy practice. That dream…vision…whatever it was still rose alarm in me, but I could stand to put it out of my mind for a while, too.

 _Yes,_ I thought. _This is just what I need._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole month, I know. Thing is, I had a medical thing at the beginning of September, and couldn't write because I was focusing on recuperating and then 3.4 happened and then I just didn't have the motivation...but here I am again! With, hopefully, no more interruptions. Thanks to anyone bearing with me.


End file.
